Dead Letter Office
by moodiful819
Summary: A place to dump drabbles and oneshots that didn't really fit anywhere but here. Various character focuses and pairings. Ch.7: Peace, shinobi, and the inevitability of war.
1. Duality: Kakashi

This was something that came out of nowhere. It was inspired by something, but I don't quite remember what.

* * *

Duality

Shinobi had no flaws. They had ambition and the strength and talent to get there. Their destinies, they carved out with their bare hands. Their toil would not go to waste, and neither would their tears as they went against all odds. They were the heroes people dreamed about; they were invincible, but unfortunately for them, they were not as great as they would like to think themselves to be.

They were bigger than their bodies. Thinking bigger, dreaming bigger, being bigger than their pathetic shells would allow until the strain became too much and they broke, though it wasn't always their body. Sometimes the thought of being limited by something so superficial became too great, their undeniable urge to do more too strong and they'd kill themselves to rid them of the weight that held them from greatness. The idea of being limited by something so vulnerable spat in the face of their beliefs. Shinobi could not die from flesh wounds. They died by swords and sickness of their own hearts. They would not die unless it was of their own accord, but their own stubbornness could not always save them. Shinobi were only as great as their pathetic bodies would allow them to be. However strong they were, they were condemned by their frail bodies. Shinobi were doomed to live and die by their own duality, and that was something Hatake Kakashi would drink to.


	2. Beer Goggles: Sasuke

Another one. This came shortly after (SPOILER!) Itachi died in the possibly saddest (and lamest) way he could. During that time, I thought 'Hmm…that's probably going to fuck up Sasuke a bit more.' Of course, this was before Tobi's epic speech-rant on Konoha and the Uchiha Clan which really screwed our little emo up. Regardless, I still think it's going to end in the way I predicted. Otherwise, I lose forty bucks.

Beer Goggles  
Summary: Sasuke drinks with the most unlikely person ever.

* * *

Rain was falling onto my skin. Tipping my head back, I let the cold seep into my skin. Lately, it's the only thing I can feel besides the pleasant buzz of alcohol when I start laughing. An undignified snort escapes me and my beer has spilled a bit from my laughing as I ponder the fact that I'm not even the legal drinking age anywhere. Then again, who the fuck cares? I'm in the middle of nowhere. Even that stupid bitch Karin can't find me, not that I actually want her to.

"Hopefully Suigetsu is keeping her occupied," I say to no one at all. That was another weird thing I've picked up along with my drinking. I've been talking to myself; that or an imaginary friend that I don't even know of. Maybe I've gone crazy, but I've crossed the line of sanity more times than I can count or care to count. Numbers were boring anyway.

I knock back a sip, staring at the beer can nestled comfortably in my palm. I'd tried the stronger stuff before. I had shochu the first day I arrived at Orochimaru's lair at a celebration party. The people at Oto really know how to throw a party when they want to and I laugh at the memory that suddenly pops into my head. It isn't really funny, but I can't stop laughing for some reason. Have I gone crazy? I ask that to my drinking partner but he doesn't give a response. That's okay; I'm okay with talking a bit more, but I really want to know if I've gone crazy. Blinking my eyes a couple of times, I realize that I can't really see. The forest is spinning and the sounds of the birds are muffled. It's like hearing through cotton balls that have suddenly and randomly become jammed in my ear and I laugh again for no reason. My head jolts when I laugh and everything starts spinning. I can't see anything clearly. I probably wouldn't be able to recognize my hand. I probably wouldn't be able to recognize myself if I looked in the mirror, but I wouldn't be surprised. I've shut myself away for three years, quietly losing my mind inside myself as I lose my humanity on the outside. I can't feel anything anymore. All I ever feel now is loneliness, pain, and the small blissful buzz I feel when I drink.

"And it's all because of you," I slur, turning my head to the decapitated head of my brother. The blood has already started to clot and his eyes stare aimlessly at nothing. Beside his head stands an open can of beer, the rain water slowly trickling into the opened tab.

Opening another can, Sasuke lazily raised it in his hand as the rain began to pour.

"Cheers, you bastard." And then he let the alcohol slide past his lips, letting the rain sink into his skin as he sat in silence with his brother.


	3. Daybreak: Kakasaku

Looking on all my updates so far, I think I'm one of those people who hates Valentine's Day. Well, maybe not hate…but I am decidedly bitter.

**Important! You won't really get what's going on unless you read this**: I wrote this sometime last summer. There is no clear background story to this and I don't think I'll be writing one, so the set up is this: Sakura was sent on a simple escort mission and was killed in action. Word was sent back after they found the body and Tsunade called up Kakashi to tell him. This is shortly after he leaps out of a window, distraught.

Title: Daybreak  
Summary: What's Tsunade talking about? Sakura couldn't be gone. She was here just last light. She can't be gone. She can't be...right?

Standard disclaimer applied. Read and review.

* * *

_She can't be dead. She can't be!_

Painful feelings claw their way up his throat, but he shoves them aside. No, showing them means accepting the lie. She isn't dead. She isn't! She isn't!

He opens their shared apartment door with a bang, chest heaving as his throat closes painfully on dry air.

'_She was here just last night!'_ he thinks to himself, staring at the nightgown she has left hanging over the back of her desk chair. Picking it up, he rubs his fingers in the soft cotton fabric, watching the flowers in his hands appear and disappear with every stroke his thumb gives before raising it to his face. It still smells like her. It's subtle and slightly sweet and it makes the knife in his heart twist that much more.

Suddenly, it becomes stifling in this room, this place. He has to get out. He has to run to somewhere—anywhere not here, so he can stop seeing painful reminders of her.

'_The hill. She's on the hill!'_ he thinks to himself, rushing over rooftops to get to her. He believes she is there. He knows she will be there because that is where he can always find her and when he arrives on the hill crest, huffing and puffing from running so much so fast, he sees her as dawn begins to break. She is wearing a white sundress and a bright smile is on her face and he feels his heart leap into his throat because he knew it couldn't be true. She has not died at all.

_She is here._

"Sakura!" he cries out and Sakura smiles wider, brighter and his heart beats against his chest as he is swept up in a joy he has never known before. "Sakura!"

"Bye, Kakashi!" she shouts and he pauses. He couldn't have heard that right? She was…_leaving?_

"Sakura?"

"Bye bye, Kakashi," she says as the day begins to break. Her voice still carries that joyful lilt in it, but it is dreamlike now, as if slowly fading away and he can feel his heart plummet inside him as his throat locks tightly and his blood begins to freeze.

"Sakura?!" he screams and on the hill just a few feet away, he sees her smile. "Bye bye…"

And before he can reach her, the sun rises and he winces at the sudden pain in his eyes, raising his arms to shield them. Putting them down when he believes it safe, he finds himself in an empty field as sunlight begins to paint the day and tears begin to prick his eyes. She is gone. She is truly gone; having left with the night, leaving him to grieve alone on a desolate hill on a beautiful day.


	4. Almost: Sasuke

Another oneshot written around the same time as Beer Goggles. Sasuke-centric, because I have a deep annoyance-almost hate of Naruto and Sasuke adds a poignant level of angst to the story that I love.

Title: Almost  
Summary: It's always an 'almost', isn't it? 'Almost first.' 'Almost the best.' 'Almost enough'…but it never is.

* * *

When Sasuke was a child, he learned from his mother that it was alright. It was alright that he was second fiddle to his brother because she still loved him. Maybe he should've realized then that it was because she was his mother that that was okay.

He should've realized that being almost as good as his brother would never garner his father's attention. That being almost as good as Itachi really meant nothing at all. That being almost as good would make him fall prey to his own demons.

And now, bathed in his brother's blood with his throat burning from the last twenty minutes, he has realized he feels empty. There is no triumph, no bright fanfare or smile, no laughter or smugness as he stares at the body of what was the only living family he had. Instead, he feels things he is not supposed to feel. Guilt, emptiness, longing, regret…he feels all these things before feeling nothing at all.

Seeing his brother's blood slowly seep into the ground, his eyes shut in peaceful slumber despite the smudged red fingerprints on his eyelids, Sasuke can almost feel the elation and depression rise in his throat. He is happy that Itachi is dead, yet deeply sad as well because what else can you do when you kill the only family you had left?

Seeing the lightening streak the sky, feeling Itachi's blood glide silkily down his fingertips and down the smooth metal of his blade, it's almost enough for Sasuke to have his brother dead, but there is so much anger…so much rage still inside of him. He knows that if it is given the chance to fester, it will destroy him from the inside, but the object of his rage is now long gone and he wishes him still alive, if only to get the chance to spit at him and tell him tearfully how much he hates him as he chokes on his sobs. The sight of Itachi's corpse is almost enough to calm him, but he can still feel the anger roiling inside him and he walks further into the forest to vent his anger and let his screams echo into the night as he fells trees with his sword, Itachi none the wiser.


	5. Eyes: NejiTenten

This, ladies and gentlemen, is a lesson to never, NEVER write things in two parts without a plot to guide you. I wrote this piece on impulse and being written at two different times, my original ending was of course lost with time and memory. I don't even remember what my direction was with this, but it's done and that's all I can say for myself. **Warning: Tense changes and possible disabling of a character.**

Title: Eyes  
Summary: His eyes meant everything to him and he might lose them. Tenten sobbed into her hand. "It isn't fair..." [NejTen]

* * *

Tenten sits by the hospital bed of Hyuuga Neji. The clock on the wall ticks away the time, whittling seconds away like wood shavings as the bells chime two in the morning. She should be asleep by now, but she shakes her head. Normal people sleep at this time. She is not normal—hasn't _been_ normal since she penned away her normalcy for a seat in the academy. No, she is a class above normal. She is a kunoichi—a shinobi.

A whimper, a moan, and she transfers her gaze from the clock to the face floating on the bed.

Neji is covered up to his neck in hospital-issue sheets. He is in a lucid, drug-induced state of sleep. An IV line is attached to his arm while wires and tubes cover his body like spider webs. The faint scratching of the EKG machine monitors his brain waves. The beep of the heart monitor shrieks nasally, dusted intermittently with silence with every pump his heart gives and her gaze flicks to it every now and again to make sure it's normal—stays normal. The mission report plays in her head.

Mission objective: Reconnaissance. Investigate mysterious disappearances on border. Report back for further instructions.

Mission Details: Day one at 1900 hours, we arrive. Day 3, we spot strange movements at the village. Day 7, our suspicions are confirmed. Rogue medics from Land of Cloud are kidnapping villagers. Purpose: human experimentation. Evidence: Deformed corpses found in remote area of forest. Medic on team does coroner report. Victims numbering at least 20 were doused with acid. When they did not die, they were doused with gasoline and lit on fire. Medic reports that all actions described occurred pre-mortem. Day 9, we head back to Konoha. Were ambushed. Engaged enemy.

Casualties: One, Hyuuga Neji

The last line of the report plays over and over in her mind. 'Casualties' is what sticks out the most and she decides that it is a hollow word. Hyuuga Neji is not a casualty. He is more than a loss. He is a person; a person with a name, face, and feelings of his own, despite how little he shows them.

Her mind pulls up memories as the report takes a backseat in her mind. It is the mission, and the images and colors and sounds are a stark contrast to what she's written on the report paper. It is night once more and the smell of the forest and moonlight invade her nose as the sound of chirping insects resound through the trees. She is in front with Neji and their medic on either side of her. Gai and Lee aren't with them on this mission and on her first mission as team captain, she had been terrified without them, but that was a long time ago.

The ambush comes four hours before dawn at their left flank. Neji senses the attack and evades the kunai aimed at his throat as he and the enemy plummet through the trees. A kunai embeds itself in the tree to her right and they fall to the forest floor as their assailants come into view. It's the rogue medics. They can't afford to have witnesses, is all they say before the fight begins.

Things blur for her at this point. They always do when you're fighting, and this is no exception for Tenten. The enemy no longer has faces, just numbers as she clocks positions and calculates forces and angles in her head. The sounds of explosions and the names of jutsu pile on top of each other in her mind. Her heartbeat thuds in her head. She is exhausted and stares blankly at the head she's just decapitated, its eyes staring back just the same.

Tiredly, she shuts her eyes from the image and turns to see Neji fighting, a glow cast on his face from the various small fires around them as he deflects the weaponry aimed at them. The bodies fall to the ground and his opponents dead, he glances at her. His eyes are tinted orange from the fire and she is startled by the eerie, ethereal quality of his beauty. He is a god among mortals, carved from stone and blessed with power, strength, and discipline. He is something to be loved, and something to be feared.

"Tenten!"

For a second, Tenten can't believe her ears. That couldn't be Neji's voice. Neji doesn't scream and if he did, it wouldn't sound like that—pained and desperate, animalistic. It shocks her to her core and only belatedly does she realize that he's moving towards her and that something else is coming towards her as well. It's a needle, something mundane and innocuous, but Tenten knows better, but she can't move. Her body is frozen with the image of her own death playing heavily and repeatedly on her mind as she stares the needle down…and suddenly it's gone…

"Wha…?"

Alive. She's alive. But before her mind can even register the information, a strangled gasp is heard on her right. It is Neji. He's flat on his back, the needle in his neck. His eyes roll back into his head and his body begins to seize as the poison begins to work through his system. It's painful to see him like this and suddenly someone begins screaming his name. The medic comes from the forest to investigate and upon seeing Neji, rushes to his side and pushes her out of the way. Only when he does that does she realize it was _her_ screaming. Her thoughts begin to be consumed by guilt.

That was roughly two days ago, but she quickly amends it to three. Midnight has passed, she reminds herself, making it three days since they stumbled into the safety of Konoha's borders and Neji was rushed for treatment. Tsunade said they had done all they could and while Tsunade was always a comfort to have as the most capable medic in the Land of Fire, the bleakness in her words were unmistakable. Even as she said they had removed most of the poison from his system, Tenten could hear the underlying words. He could never move again. He could never wake up again. He could die. HecoulddieHecoulddieHecoulddie! And it'd be her fault…

A fitful moan and she was by his side to catch his hands. His eyes were open, but she knew he wasn't awake. Knew because this wasn't the first time this had happened. Though his eyes would be open, the EKG said he was asleep and she wondered if he knew that he was doing this.

"No. I will not let you do this to me, Hiashi-sama! They're mine. They are my eyes! You've already taken everything from me. Just let me keep my eyes!"

Tears are streaming down his face. It was the nightmare again, and she catches his hands, quietly shushing him as she strokes his brow and kisses his hair. He continues to struggle, eyes shifting fearfully over the walls, but Tenten holds onto him and soon after, Neji quieted, his screams falling into murmurs as his eyes fall peacefully shut.

She watches him for a while; how long exactly, she doesn't know. She began ignoring the merciless ticking of the clock soon after arriving at the hospital, and suddenly she is crying.

"It's not fair."

She didn't even know he was still having that nightmare. That nightmare was supposed to be gone. It was one that had haunted him since they were genin.

He told her about it once. He would be sitting in a room. It would be dark and the only lights came from outside under the slits in the shutters. He would be alone and everything would be quiet. And then, Hiashi appears, along with his father, his mother, and her. Next, he would ask what was going on. He knows he shouldn't because he has seen this dream enough times to know what will happen, but his body won't listen. And as soon as those words leave his mouth, they are all dead and he is left alone with Hiashi while bathed in the blood of all those he held dear.

Hiashi would come towards him, the sound of his footsteps echoing throughout the room and a hand would press against his hitai-ate before it was gone and in Hiashi's hand as he said he didn't need it. It would disappear and Neji would stare in shock before the bandages over his forehead would be ripped away and the searing pain of the curse seal flooded his system. And then, just as he thought it couldn't get any worse and that it was finally over, Hiashi would saunter up to him and place his fingers just over his eyes. "You won't be needing these anymore," he would say, and then they'd be gone.

Now she knows Neji knows that Hiashi loves him like a son, but she also knows that a part of him will always be wary of the clan, always watching their movements because he never knows what they would do next. He is paranoid of them, but this paranoia is justified. Though Hiashi treats him well, not every member of the main branch shares his sentiments.

A whimper echoes in the quiet of the room and she turns to see his features are knit once again in pain. Reaching up, she caresses his head and lets a sighing hush escape her lips.

It wasn't fair. He was the genius of the clan and he was stuck as a second-rate member. He was meant for greater things and they both knew that, but they were forever out of his grasp. His dreams had been pulled out from under him and for days afterwards, he would be plagued with images of his father. He had always felt that he had disappointed his father. Even though he'd told her he'd made peace with those things, Tenten always knew that some part of him was feeding off of those thoughts and making him doubt everything and everyone, including himself.

Staring at the man before her, she couldn't help but marvel at his strength and growth. He had lost his father and placed aside his dreams for the good of the clan. The bitterness he felt only years before was gone and only calm was left. He had accepted his fate and though she pushed him, begged him to not give up, Neji would not change his mind. Maybe because he knew what he wanted changed could not be changed.

No matter how much he wished and pleaded, his father would not come back from the dead; the divisions in the clan would not be changed; and he would remain a branch member for the rest of his life. Instead, he would make the best of what his life was now. He put his genius to work, making Anbu the most successful it had been in years. He trained furiously, pushing his limits further and further, and everyday, he thanked Kami for allowing him to meet her. But even as he said those things and did those things, she could see a certain sadness to him that broke her heart.

Slowly, Tsunade's words began to infiltrate her mind. They trickled in slowly like water, every words falling on her consciousness like rain. He may not wake up. He may not walk again. He may not speak again.

Another sentence was pressing against her mind, struggling to push past the barrier of her consciousness as she tried desperately to keep it away. It couldn't be true. She hadn't said it. It wasn't true. It wasn't.

But despite all her wishes, the words broke through.

_He might not be able to see again._

"Damn it!" Tears were stinging her eyes. Below her, her hands were fisted over the covers. It couldn't be true; it couldn't be, but Tsunade's words echo in her ears over and over again. He might be blind; he might be deaf as well, and Tenten curses that fact. His family and dreams were dead; if he couldn't aim for anything higher than what he had, he would make the best with what he had. He would swallow the venomous words of the Main branch; he would become a shinobi that would make his father proud; protect Hinata with his life. He had lost everything. Those eyes were everything to him and now…now he may lose even that.

And slowly, Tenten bows her head against Neji's hand, pressing it against her cheek. Tears are falling from her eyes and staining the sheets. Her hands grip Neji's, trembling like her lips.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

She feels hopeless and despicable. Her heart wavers and cracks, and she chokes out a sob, her back seizing with every 'hic-hic-hic' her body makes. She feels sorry and apologetic for things—for everything. She feels lost and miserably alone. If she could, she'd turn back time to stop him from saving her; anything to change his fate, even if it meant losing her life.

She looks up, staring through her teary eyes to see his sleeping face. He is peaceably lucid, unaware of the cruel things fate has tossed in his path once more. She feels like waking him up and saying sorry, she feels like begging for forgiveness but knows that even if he says it's alright, she knows it isn't. It won't be ever again. He has lost his eyes and it kills her to know that she's to blame.

And so, she cries, holding his hand to her cheek while he sleeps in a drug-induced sleep. Apologies spill from her lips like rain and she wishes that this had never happened, that'd they wake up like they do every morning and go train and smile and laugh and that he'd be able to see again. But it has happened and bowing her head, she cries and holds Neji's hand in a knuckle-white grip. The clock chimes 3 o' clock.


	6. Abolute Power: Hanabi

**A/N: Written last year and is based on a famous quote that my Social Studies teacher taught our class in freshman year. As for why Hanabi, I wanted something other than the cutesy girl or the rebellious girl for her.**

* * *

Title: Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely  
Summary: Under no circumstances was Hyuuga Hanabi ever to gain the clan title. Ever.

.

.

.

There was a reason Hyuuga Hanabi was not allowed to be the clan leader.

It wasn't because Hinata was first-born and therefore the title fell to her.

It wasn't that Neji had far excelled her own abilities at their family's jutsu and would be more worthy.

It wasn't even because of her father's soft spot for her sister.

No, it was a stronger reason than that. It was a well-known fact that Hanabi was a wicked child—that her years coddled and favored by her father combined with the power that was always there but out of reach, had done something to her—that a foreign evil coiled itself and grew in her like a bad seed. _She_ was a bad seed, and it was evident in the way she treated her family—branch or main.

She kicked her servants, schemed the deaths of the family members that she hated, and plotted for her sister's demise constantly. The family was wary of her—Neji had requested housing outside the compound. Hinata was rarely seen with her. Even her own father was beginning to fear her.

And they knew if she ever was to gain the clan title of leader, there was no knowing what havoc she would wreak.

Because absolute power corrupts absolutely.

And there was no knowing what that would do to an already corrupted soul.


	7. Spoilt: Naruto, Sasuke Genfic

Title: Spoilt  
Summary: Peace, shinobi, and the inevitability of war.

* * *

When the war ended, it seemed as if the fighting would finally stop. Not the fight with Obito—that was over with—but the wars between countries. Perhaps there would finally be a lasting peace. Maybe Naruto was right. Maybe no one would have to die anymore.

The treaties were written up during the reconstruction. All the villages signed. Naruto, despite having not yet gained the title of Hokage, also signed. Sasuke watched the events with detachment. Anyone who knew the ninja life—really knew it—knew it would never last, but Sasuke was not ungracious. He would not spit in the eyes of the friends he'd just regained.

And so he kept quiet, and watched as Konoha changed and the world changed. Suna and Konoha remained close as always, but even relations with Iwa, Kumo, and Kiri had relaxed, strengthened, and grown. The day Naruto took the podium and accepted the long sweeping coat and wide-brimmed hat of Hokage was the fifth anniversary of the treaty-signing.

Of course, just because part of the world was peachy-keen did not mean it was the same everywhere. In Ame, with the fall of the Akatsuki, a power-vacuum had occurred. Vulnerable to exploitation, the land was struggling with civil war. People fled into the neighboring countries, fearing for their lives and praying for safety. Sanctions were raised; teams dispatched to the No-Man's-Land that had formerly been Ame, now the property of rich warlords.

A similar problem was occurring in Oto as well; abandoned by Orochimaru who now travelled as a wanderer, the political infrastructure had begun to collapse. Famine erupted. A crop blight wiped out much of the land and its population, but the Allied Shinobi Nation held firm, opening its borders and lending medical and financial aid to little avail. The country of Sound fractured into multiple city-states and closed its borders; they blamed their problems on the outside world, on the foreigners who brought their troubles and their diseases through the walls to poison them all.

But Naruto took it in stride. He was a man of his word, and he would build the world of his dreams. He spoke of peace, and he would deliver.

Even when he watched Nagato's homeland fall under the pressure of greed and starvation.

Even when more refugees continued to pour into the village day after day.

Even when he was forced to give into the daimyo's food-rationing ordinance.

Even when he watched other villages buckle under the same orders, Naruto kept hope. The treaties would hold; peace would survive.

But they needed food. They needed land. They needed land to grow the food, end the rationing. Expeditions were made; negotiations exchanged. Their borders expanded to meet the needs of the casualties of war, of the villages too small to have been considered in the Alliance. The Allied Nations suddenly found themselves close neighbors, their borders groaning from the pressuring demands of the bodies inside them. Skirmishes occurred, first slowly. Then frequently.

The Kages always reprimanded their border patrol units. Commanders shouted at their underlings; the treaties were to be respected. Always.

But that was hard to do in a contentious sea of shifting map lines and rumbling stomachs and constantly shrinking ration bags. More often than not, cause of death for a shinobi at the border was friendly fire than anything else.

At 34, twelve years after becoming Hokage, Naruto sighed over one of these casualty reports, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Beside the stack beneath his palms was another stack of reports, copies from the daimyo's desk of this year's agricultural projections. He didn't have to read them to know this was another year of drought. It was the same in every other country except Kiri, who was ironically suffering from an excess of water; an unusually virulent storm season had flooded the farmland. The breadbaskets had been salted into disrepair.

And it wasn't just food either.

He looked at the stack of files on his left, all reports on the dwindling state of valuable resources. Early in his career, the nations had all been willing to share, but now, even the Land of Iron was finding less ore in its mines.

With another tired rub of his face, Naruto tried to focus his crossing eyes on the page in front of him and wondered if more psychiatric help should be sent to the borders, wondered if there was anything he could do to alleviate the cabin-fever at the posts as they watched for intruders and attempted to keep the peace between the smaller villages that had been adopted into the fold,. But his mind was elsewhere, planted firmly in the grim decision of whether to open the low grain stores again or tighten rations once more, of letting the people of the village starve now or later.

There was a knock at the door. Waving towards it, one of the Anbu members stationed by his desk went to get it. In entered a quavering deputy officer, a piece of paper held in his shaky hands. It was a report: There had been an argument over a supply of rations at the border between Iwa-allied Grass nin and their own troops. A hostage had been taken, then lost; Konoha's base had been decimated. Iwa was on the line, screaming. People were moving. The day Sasuke had always knew was coming had finally arrived.

Naruto stared disbelievingly at the small man in front of him. After eighteen years of no fighting, it couldn't end like this. It couldn't be. There were treaties. There was supposed to be peace.

He couldn't breathe. His lungs felt like concrete in his chest.

Shifting his mask, the Anbu officer who had stayed by his side walked over to the frozen Hokage and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Eighteen years was a good run," Sasuke intoned softly.

Gaze as empty as his words, Naruto gave a small sigh and sagged under his friend's touch. His lungs felt crushed in his chest. "Yeah, I guess it was…" he replied absently, and watched as his friend readjusted the mask over his face and leapt out the window, and prepared himself to make the announcement of war.

The words were bitter on his tongue.


End file.
